The Weasel and The Porcupine

There once was a weasel who met a beautiful sweet faced porcupine. He fell in love with that sweet faced porcupine and the porcupine fell in love with the weasel. The weasel could tell he was a bit sad and a bit hurt by the world but he thought he could bring happiness and love and care to the porcupine. And who knows what the porcupine saw in the happy weasel, only the porcupine knew that answer.

So they were happy. And joyful. And the weasel saw the sadness leave the porcupine and that made the weasel want to remain even more.

The weasel learned how to hold the porcupine in a way that made them both happy. Sometimes the world would startle the porcupine. And sometimes the world would startle the weasel, and one or the other would squirm, and cause the quills of the porcupine to poke and hurt the weasel, or the claws of the weasel to scratch at the porcupine but they would settle back down and go back asleep.

It’s a shame the story doesn’t end there.

At one point, who knows why, the weasel sure didn’t know why, but a sadness seem to seep over the porcupine again. No matter how hard the weasel tried to make the porcupine happy, the porcupine just looked away and stared at other other things. The quills started poking and hurting more often, mostly accidental, but sometimes on purpose.

So sadly, the weasel started to stay away. The weasel never thought about not coming back every day to the porcupine cause that felt like home, but it wasn’t as safe as it once was. It wasn’t as fun as it once was. The weasel felt alone and instead of turning to the porcupine for comfort, which maybe he should have, he found comfort in the silliness of his friends.

weasel

Every so often he’d look over to see if the porcupine was feeling happier or smiling, but the porcupine seemed angry or distracted, so the weasel would turn around again and try to entertain himself. He missed the joy and the silliness but felt that the world was being so hard on the porcupine, that to ask for happiness was not very reasonable.

The porcupine was sad and felt very alone as well, and his sadness shifted to a darker place cause he saw the weasel not feeling the happy comfort and the safety that it once felt with the porcupine. The weasel’s claws scratched him more often. Mostly by accident. Sometimes on purpose.

The porcupine kept to his own life, staying away. And not really inviting the weasel in. Every once and a while the porcupine would stab the weasel just a bit too hard. And a bit too on purpose. And the weasel would scratch back a bit to hard. And a bit too on purpose.

But some how each would see the sweetness in the others face from time to time and try to cuddle back into their embrace but, sadly, it wasn’t as comfortable as it once was. But it was still comfortable. Enough.

The porcupine’s sadness slowly deepened. Maybe because the world was too hard, or the weasel seemed too far away and seemed to be having too much fun, or something. But the gap just kept growing. Til it was too big. And the porcupine stabbed. And the weasel clawed. And it was broken.
This is when maybe the story should have ended. But it didn’t.

The weasel still saw the sweetness in the porcupine. And maybe the sweetest mixed with sadness was also appealing too. Maybe he could help if he just kept loving. And being patient. He would keep smiling when the porcupine would stomp by. And he would cuddle up to the porcupine again and again. He would try to ignore the little pricks and the stabs. But he also needed frivolity in his life. and he would find it outside with friends and the things he loved.

It seemed the porcupine was also doing the same thing as well. So maybe this was ok.

But sadly this kept having the same result. More pricks. More stabs. More claws. More fun away from each other.

Til it broke again. And again.
And each time it maybe should have been the end of the story. But each time it wasn’t.
Finally the weasel was too afraid of the stabs and stayed away too much. He still loved and was drawn to that sweet face with such power but the weasel was just too scared of the quills to hold the porcupine tight like he used to. And the porcupine felt too abandoned and sad for the porcupines love to over power that feeling of distance. Their cuddle was no longer comfortable any more. And so it was done. With deep sadness. Great love. And some fear and abandonment all scrambled up together.

My love for theater started when I first got involved in high school plays and children's theatre in London, Ontario, which led me—much to my mother’s chagrin—to study set design, directing, and arts administration at York University in Toronto. But rather than pursuing theater as a career (I did produce and design a wee bit), I became a self-proclaimed theater junkie and life-long supporter. I am not a writer by trade, but I hope to share my views and feelings about this amazing experience we are so lucky to be able to see here in NYC, and in my many trips to London, Enlgand, Chicago, Toronto, Washington, and beyond.
Living in London, England from 1985 to 1986, NYC since 1994, and on my numerous theatrical obsessive trips to England, I've seen as much theater as I can possibly afford. I love seeing plays. I love seeing musicals. If I had to choose between a song or a dance, I'd always pick the song. Dance—especially ballet—is pretty and all, but it doesn’t excite me as, say, Sondheim lyrics. But that being said, the dancing in West Side Story is incredible!
As it seems you all love a good list, here's two.
FAVORITE MUSICALS (in no particular order):
Sweeney Todd with Patti Lupone and Michael Cerveris in 2005. By far, my most favorite theatrical experience to date.
Sunday in the Park with George with Jenna Russell (who made me sob hysterically each and every one of the three times I saw that production in England and here in NYC) in 2008
Spring Awakening with Jonathan Groff and Lea Michele in 2007
Hedwig and the Angry Inch (both off-Boadway in 1998 and on Broadway in 2014, with Neal Patrick Harris, but also with Michael C. Hall and John Cameron Mitchell, my first Hedwig and my last...so far),
Next To Normal with Alice Ripley (who I wish I had seen in Side Show) in 2009
FAVORITE PLAYS (that’s more difficult—there have been so many and they are all so different):
Angels in American, both on Broadway and off
Lettice and Lovage with Dame Maggie Smith and Margaret Tyzack in 1987
Who's Afraid of Virginai Woolf with Tracy Letts and Amy Morton in 2012
Almost everything by Alan Ayckbourn, but especially Woman in Mind with Julia McKenzie in 1986
And to round out the five, maybe Proof with Mary Louise Parker in 2000. But ask me on a different day, and I might give you a different list.
These are only ten theatre moments that I will remember for years to come, until I don’t have a memory anymore. There are many more that I didn't or couldn't remember, and I hope a tremendous number more to come. Thanks for reading.
And remember: read, like, share, retweet, enjoy.
For more go to frontmezzjunkies.com

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